“Your horse is beautiful,” she said, stroking its neck after it had hungrily devoured the food. “What’s his name?”
Stellan rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”
Clarysa shrugged. “I couldn’t possibly guess. What is it?”
Stellan chuckled derisively. “Horse.”
Clarysa admonished him with a look. “Oh, stop teasing!” She narrowed her eyes. “And why the patronizing face?”
“Because I have more important things to do than sit around thinking up silly names for my animals, that’s why.”
His words stung. They really stung. Clarysa paused mid-stroke. She’d only been making conversation. Is this how it is, then? Our dance meant nothing to you? Attempting to quell hurt feelings and suppress the growing knot in her stomach, she forced a polite smile. “Then I won’t bother you further. Everyone who knows me will tell you I can be very silly.” Clarysa spun around, picked up her skirt so as not to trip and look even sillier, and stormed off.
Hastily wiping tears, she dodged horses and servants and other assorted obstacles. Over two months of waiting for his cold shoulder? Isn’t it obvious? He doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing but a foolish little nuisance. Clarysa was beginning to have some insight into how her family viewed her behavior. It was not a pleasant feeling.
Someone called her name, but she refused to acknowledge whoever it was. She kept barreling ahead. But then a shadow passed across her vision, and she had to stop, for Stellan blocked her path.
“Clarysa, please wait,” he said, holding out an arm to prevent her escape.
She pressed her hands against her stomach in an attempt to manage her anxious state. “It was a stupid question, Stellan. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it wasn’t. My answer… It was my answer that was stupid. I…” He paused, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head and avoiding her gaze.
There he goes again. Clarysa glanced away as well, but his tall, striking figure, emanating warmth and a pleasing masculine scent, was too tempting. Therefore she summoned the courage to look up. When she did, it was straight into his deep green eyes.
“Let’s start over.” He took a deep breath, and this time his voice sounded genuinely friendly. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Clarysa curtseyed. “The feeling is mutual.” The ambient noise faded to a murmur as she lost herself in the handsome features before her. His skin appeared very pale, even in the bright sunshine, but it was intriguingly offset by his dark and lustrous hair. He was like an imperious, cold statue waiting for her warm embrace and gentle kisses to awaken him. Those thoughts led to more mischievous ones, and soon Clarysa was breathing much more deeply than usual.
Stellan’s gaze abruptly snapped up and away. The blush spreading across his cheeks hinted at the hills and valley upon which he had just feasted.
Clarysa smiled knowingly, but he was in danger of retreating back into his shell. Perhaps a diversion was in order. She cocked her head toward the buffet. “Shall we find something to eat?”
Stellan nodded. “I’m starving.”
They began to walk, and then Stellan cleared his throat. “So, what do you think is a suitable name?”
“A name for what?”
“My horse.”
“Oh! Well, umm… Let’s see…uh… Yes, that’ll do nicely. How about ‘Midnight’?”
Stellan inclined his head. “It’s…very acceptable.”
Clarysa clapped and grinned. “You know he’s going to sleep much better at night from now on, since he’s got a name.”
Stellan’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t say?”
Clarysa nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes!”
“And if someone should ask my whereabouts while I am grooming him, should that person be told I will be available ‘after Midnight’?”
Clarysa snorted, and then gave him a friendly nudge. “You might want to rethink any career as a traveling jester, in case such a thought had crossed your mind.”
A trace of red heated Stellan’s usually cold face again. “Consider it rethought.”
The two walked on to the camp.
* * * *
Stellan and Clarysa sat on her blanket apart from the camp proper and under the shade of a great oak. Servants kept them supplied with appetizers until the main course was ready. Occasionally, their hands brushed as they reached for the food, prompting exchanges of shy smiles. Clarysa coaxed him into a steady conversation as they ate, asking him about the hunt and gossiping about various escapades of Lionel and the others.
After they were sated on the last of the wine and dessert, Stellan leaned back against the tree. Clarysa sat by his long, outstretched legs, fingering tufts of grass and thick roots. She used her sudden interest in all things botanical as an excuse to occasionally graze his thigh or knee with an errant hand. Stolen glances informed her the prince didn’t seem to mind. Truth be told, she wanted to dance again, or have some other excuse to be in his arms. The compelling shape of his lips made her wonder about any other talents he possessed, aside from magick. She understood his reticence in kissing her hand before their comrades, but perhaps here, in the bucolic, private setting, he’d feel more comfortable.
Clarysa intended to make him feel as comfortable as possible.
So she chattered on, making lighthearted jokes even as she edged closer, and then closer still. At one point, she leaned forward with a smile, knowing her arms pushed her breasts together and hoping the view pleased him. What a gentleman–he’s not even looking! Clarysa brazenly toyed with the gilded fabric along her neckline, shivering in anticipation as she waited for the searing path his gaze would surely make once he noticed.
Despite the obvious interest he had displayed a few hours before, he still didn’t glance down. Even though they sat so close one of
